Each year in November, the United Kingdom remembers the men and women who gave their lives in the two World Wars and subsequent conflicts.
11th November is known as Armistice Day, Remembrance Day or Poppy Day.
During the First World War, on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, the guns of the Western Front fell silent after more than four years of continuous warfare. In many parts of the world, people observe a two-minute of silence at 11am on 11th November.
Events will be held in 2014 to mark 100 years since the outbreak of the First World War, Armistice Day (in 2018), and the dates of major battles in between. Prime Minister David Cameron has pledged more than £50m will be spent on commemorating the centenary. Funding will be spent on transforming the Imperial War Museum in London and also on establishing a programme to allow children to visit battlefields. The Treasury will add another £5m to the £35m refurbishment of the galleries at the Imperial War Museum, taking money from fines imposed on financial services companies for misconduct.
‘For The Fallen’ – Laurence Binyon 1914
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain
Lest We Forget